The Woodland Packs

I’d been holding on to my desires for months.

And I wasn’t sure I could keep being the quiet little girl they’d been wrapping in cotton wool.

“Are you going back to work… or….”

Tayte was a builder and both Dane and Sam were bricklayers. Thus the incredible facade of the house I now lived in.

Tayte stood up and cleared the table, then arranged everything in the new dishwasher they’d installed for me. Such luxuries.

I was too spoilt already.

Tayte replied with, “We could go either way. Do you need us to do something for you?”

I licked my lips.

I most certainly did.

But could I convince them to stop treating me like I was made of glass?

Since the miscarriage scare they’d all been too nice to me.

I needed to be taken.

I wanted to feel the desire of that first day.

The passion, and lust, and need.

Claire, who was just as pregnant as I was, reassured me that it was completely safe for them to—how had she phrased it—bang me into next week.

Heat crept up my neck and into my cheeks.

Sam grinned at me. “What’cha thinking, gorgeous? You look like you’re blushing.”

I took a breath and forced myself to get it over and done with.

Surely, they wouldn’t reject me?

“I’d like to go to bed, please.”

“Bed, as in you’re tired? Would you like me to carry you up?” Sam asked, standing up.

I almost laughed.

Did I have to strip naked and do a dance to get them to notice my other needs?

How were they so blind?

“No… um, I want you to make love to me.”

Tayte growled with that sexy Alpha noise he made and scooped me up into his arms.

“Well, that we can do.”

I clung to his neck as he trotted up the stairs, carrying my weight easily.

I giggled, unable to c

onceptualise just how crazy this was.